


Like An Old Married Couple

by thelotusflower



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelotusflower/pseuds/thelotusflower
Summary: After getting falsely identified as a couple at a wedding, Craig’s feelings for Kyle are inadvertently exposed.
Relationships: (background), Kyle Broflovski/Craig Tucker, Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31
Collections: JBK and Lotus’s Assumed Dating Prompts





	Like An Old Married Couple

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to my BFF jewboykahl for giving me this delicious prompt and all they do and looking this over ily forever amen

Craig sits at the high top, keeping his eyes trained on his friends dancing a few feet away from them. He seldom goes out to nightclubs, but when he does, he usually throws down a couple shots and proceeds to glue himself to the dance floor. He likes dancing, despite being largely anti-social, but a few drinks fixes that.

Though there is something, or more like  _ someone,  _ he likes more than dancing, or even drinking — that someone being Kyle Broflovski. 

Kyle doesn’t like or want to dance though, dodging every request or hand pull towards the dance floor that comes his way. While all the others have given up the quest, Craig remains beside him, bugging and prodding him to dance.

“Come on, I’ve seen you dance, and you’re not that bad,”

“I would have to be… way more drunk,”

“Then, bottoms up, bitch,” Craig clinks his drink against Kyle’s beer bottle, left on the table. Kyle just glares at him, however a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Craig takes a sip of his own drink and sets it down. “You can’t get drunk just by looking at it, you know. You actually have to consume some to feel anything.”

“Ha ha,” Kyle retorts, eyes still set on him, “thanks for the memo, but there is no way I’m getting drunk enough to dance.”

“Why?

“Someone has to watch over them. It’s their wedding day tomorrow. I have to make sure they don’t get arrested, or obliterated to the point where they won’t be able to walk down the aisle.”

“How can you do that when you’re so far away from them? It might help if you were a little closer,”

“I can see just fine from here,” Kyle turns his head to watch their group of friends. “But I appreciate the false concern.”

Craig turns his head to the direction of Kyle’s gaze, watching as Kenny and Clyde attempt to hold Stan above their heads. “It doesn’t seem like you’re doing a very good job. They are about to break Stan’s neck.”

“Cartman can handle it,” Kyle says. “Kenny and Clyde are both under his watch anyways.”

As if he predicted it, Cartman charges from the other side of the bar, and demands they put Stan down. Craig watches as the duo pouts; a little less than gently lowering the man back on his feet. Craig turns back again to Kyle and says, “I can’t believe Cartman is actually a decent best man.”

Kyle shrugs, picking his beer up to take a sip. “He can be decent on occasion… plus, he is weirdly obsessed with other people’s relationships.”

“Maybe because he can’t get into a relationship of his own,”

Kyle snorts, and shifts his gaze back to Craig. “I don’t think he could ever love anyone more than he loves himself. It would be hard for anyone to live up to those expectations,”

Craig puffs out a laugh and a nod, “I don’t think anyone would  _ want  _ to.”

Kyle grins at him, before taking another sip. Craig watches as he slips the bottle between his lips; feeling somewhat creepy in doing so, but unable to look away from the sight.

“Yeah, you’d think so, but then again, there are a lot of weird and desperate people out there,”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Craig smirks, resting a hand on the other’s shoulder, which Kyle shrugs away from.

“Shut up,” Kyle says. “What are you still doing here, anyway? I know you want to dance.”

Craig considers being honest. He wants to dance, but only if it’s with Kyle. Hell. He doesn’t even care about dancing that much. He just wants to be close to Kyle. He should be honest. He has liked him for some time now; he thinks of him more and more nowadays, and it’s beginning to be a legit distraction for him at work. Though, he can’t fully admit to it.

“Guess I just like bothering you too much.”

The corner of Kyle’s lip curls into a smile, their gaze lingering before Kyle says, “well, you’d bother me a lot more if you just go dance, so if that’s the case…,” Kyle gestures to the floor; a challenging look in his eyes.

He often wonders what would happen if he just kissed him. He is half-sure Kyle is into him too, but it is the  _ half  _ part that scares him. “So you can creepily watch me? Nah. I don’t think so.”

Kyle’s eyes widen as he jerks upright, “What makes you think I’d watch you?” Craig swears he sees blush, but with the dim lighting, it’s hard to tell. 

“You’ve been watching everyone like a creep all night,” Craig points out. “I would be in your line of vision.”

“Wow, Craig, I didn’t realize you were so self-conscious,” 

“See, it’s more self-conscious in the — some creep won’t stop staring at me — way, and not the — I’m insecure about my dancing abilities — kind of way.”

“Fuck you,” Kyle says.

Craig smirks, “you at least have to give me one dance first.”

Craig watches as something in his stare shifts and softens; the corners of his lips tugging slightly. “I would just embarrass myself,” Kyle says, voice softer than before and drawn out by the loud rumble of music around them.

Craig leans closer, feeling almost prompted to do so with Kyle’s lowered speech. “I can be the judge of that.”

Kyle scrunches up his nose as he grabs his beer bottle for a sip. “Only more reason to stay put, if that’s the case.” Kyle’s thumbnail toys against the beer label; his eyes flickering toward it, “I don’t think you’d make the nicest judge.”

Craig feels his heart beat quicken as he responds, and dips his chin down so he is closer to Kyle, “promise I’ll be nice.”

Kyle’s amber eyes flicker against his own; downward, and up. “Are you asking me to dance, or are you asking me to dance with  _ you _ ?”

Craig feels his cheeks burn. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, something, or more like  _ someone _ , slams into their table, knocking their drinks over. Kyle gasps and jumps out of his seat as beer pools over his lap.

Craig mirrors his actions, pulling napkins from the canister to hand to Kyle. He dabs the droplets of beer and liquor that got on himself before eyeing the culprits of the crash — Stan and Kenny.

Before he can address them, Kyle does. “Ugh — fuck. What the fuck? I got beer all over me. Why did you slam into the table?”

“We want you to dance!” Kenny grins, pulling on Kyle’s wrist. “It will be fun.”

Stan nods beside him, “Kyle  _ please?  _ It would make Kenny really happy! He’s been asking for you all night.”

Craig watches as Kyle looks between them, and then briefly at Craig before returning his eyes to Kenny. “Fine,” he huffs out. “One dance.”

“Woohoo!” Kenny smiles, throwing Kyle’s hand up with his own. Kenny points to Craig as says, “Stan, Craig needs to dance too!”

Stan turns to him, and starts with, “Craig, you need to —,”

Craig holds a hand up to him. “Yes.  _ Dance _ . I got it.”

Like that, the moment is gone, and Craig spends the majority of his night dancing beside Clyde instead of Kyle who is majorly occupied by his closest friends. He keeps his eyes on him though, and while Kyle has no rhythm whatsoever, he finds him adorable.

-

Craig stands in the bedroom of Randy Marsh — somewhere he can truthfully say he’d never thought he’d be. He watches as Bebe paints glitter eyeliner over Kenny’s eyelids. She grins widely as she does so, cooing about how hot he looks.

“Gee, Bebe if you aren’t a such a hardcore lesbian, I’d say you were hittin’ on me,” Kenny says, eyes closed and smile on his lips.

“Oh  _ stop,  _ you know I’m just a big flirt, and how could anyone not flirt with someone as perfect as you, sweetie?” She presses two fingers between his cheeks, making him pucker. “You’re all done, babe.”

She lets him go and he opens his eyes, eyes sparkling up at her. “You think I look pretty enough to snatch a husband?”

“I think you already snatched him, hon. Don’t need some papers and signatures to prove that,” she pats him on the shoulder with a wink.

“I’m gonna go find Nichole. Since I’m not an official member of the wedding party and all, and I’ve done what I’ve been called to do,” Bebe strides towards the door. As she places her hand on the doorknob, she turns to address the group once more. “Unless any of you other boys wants their makeup done.”

“If you come anywhere near me with that, Bebe, I will personally kick you in your lesbian ball sack,” Cartman says, from his place on Randy’s bed, sat against the headboard.

“You could never pull it off sweetie,” she smiles, “or ever handle my balls.”

“Oh, gee, I think I’d like my makeup done! You, sure, did a good job on Ken,” Butters says.

“Butters, dammit, we don’t need the estrogen in here. The faster Bebe is out of here, the better,”

“You know, actually, Bebe, I think I would love some eyeliner, too,” Craig says, sparring a side glance to Cartman before turning his attention to Bebe.

Bebe grins, stepping away from the door and towards Butters. “Alright, Butters first, and then I’ll get you Craig.” She locks eyes onto Clyde. “How about you, babe?”

Clyde scratches his chin, pondering. “Ya know, I’ve never worn makeup before. Maybe today's the day— gotta be supportive of my homies,” Clyde says, wrapping an arm around Craig’s back.

Craig side eyes him as Bebe prepares Butters for eyeliner. “How exactly are you being supportive?” Craig deadpans with a listless gaze.

“You know, _ ”  _ Clyde juts his chin, “being gay and stuff.”

Craig scowls, “being gay and wearing eyeliner are two completely separate things.”

“Yeah, I’m not gay, and I like make up, Clyde,” Butters admits, eyes closed as Bebe applies his liner.

Kenny snorts, standing up from the foldable chair he sat on previously. He takes a few steps over to a Clyde, who still has an arm around Craig, and pats his back. “I love straight people. They are so entertaining.”

“I hate them,” Craig shrugs away, taking a step away from Clyde. “Bebe, lay it on thick for me, I need to differentiate myself.”

“Lay it on thick?” Cartman laughs, “Craig, I don’t think you can get any gayer. Chill out,” he chuckles to himself, eying his phone.

Bebe finishes up Butter’s eyeliner, and then moves onto Craig, laying it on  _ thick _ , per request. As she attends to Craig’s make up, Karen comes in to check on Kenny, and when it’s Clyde’s turn, another knock comes to the door.

Craig rises from his slouch against the wall to answer it — Clyde getting his makeup done by Bebe; Kenny, Karen and Butters wrapped in conversation; and Cartman still laid out on Randy’s bed.

When Craig pulls the door open, it’s like he’s slammed his foot flush against the accelerator of his heart. In front of him stands Kyle; hair gelled and parted to the side; freckles dark across his cheeks from the late summer sun. He always thinks Kyle as handsome, but in his tux; bow tie at his neck, he is  _ breathtakingly  _ handsome.

“Hey,” Kyle stares with wide eyes and a small smile; his eyes flickering up and down. “You clean up well… the eyeliner is a nice touch.”

Something bubbles in his chest; similar to the feeling he would get as a teenager with a crush. It suddenly dawns upon him that he has not held this strong of feelings for anyone in a  _ long  _ time and they are not even  _ together  _ — it’s just a crush.

He opens his mouth, “yeah you do too… and oh, yeah, it’s like, a Kenny’s groomsmen thing,” he nods, smacking his lips together. “Bebe did it… Uh, what are you doing here, anyways?”

“I just wanted to check on everything,”

“You don’t trust us to have it together?”

Kyle provides a lopsided smile, and tilt of the head, “not really.”

“Fair enough,” Craig steps back, allowing Kyle to file inside the room. As he walks inside, Craig cannot resist from checking out his ass. His eyes travel down the other male’s back, landing on his plump and perfectly round butt. As if the tux was not already doing enough for him, it has also shaped his butt in an even more attractive curve than usual. He releases a breath before he forces himself to look away and close the door.

He watches as Kyle does what Kyle does — mothering everyone he possibly can and scolding Cartman for eating chips; endangering the livelihood of his own tux with greasy fingers. He cannot take his eyes off of him; too enraptured with his actions and being; his laugh as he converses with Kenny, or his scowl when near Cartman; to his overtly awkward rejection towards Bebe when she offers to do his eyeliner as well. He just enjoys looking at him so much. He is sure that if he did leave him to dance last night, that everytime Kyle’s eyes scanned over to his, he would already be looking back. 

“Dude, you’re getting that look in your eyes again,” Clyde nudges him in the ribcage as they lean against the window of Randy’s bedroom. Craig looks over to him, watching as he pops a grape into his mouth from the fruit tray.

“What look?”

“The look you get whenever you look at you-know-who!”

Craig flushes, turning away. He told Clyde about his crush on Kyle about a month ago, and ever since, he has not shut up about it. Deep down, a part of him likes this though. If Clyde is the one to bring up Kyle, then  _ he  _ does not have to bring up Kyle, and since he is pretty much all that's ever on his mind these days, it’s a topic he deeply enjoys.

“Dude, shut up,” he whispers, keeping eyes straight ahead. He eyes Kyle, just in case he somehow heard over the chattering buzz of varying conversations. It does not appear he has heard anything though; attention divided between Cartman and Kenny.

“Or even think about him really,” Clyde snorts.

“I swear to god, Clyde, I will kick your ass. I don’t care whose wedding it is.”

“I don’t think he’d be too happy with you if you ruined all their wedding photos,”

“They can crop you out.”

“You should just tell him how you feel; ask him out, or whatever. I’m sure it would go smoothly. Not that I know much about gay guys, but I’m pretty sure he’s into you,”

Craig stomps on the other’s foot and a wail from the victim follows, prompting every other individual in the room to look over.

“Craig if you’re gonna hurt Clyde, can you just do it after? He is too valuable at the moment,” Kyle frowns at them.

Clyde snickers, elbowing his friend in the ribs again, “told ya,”

Craig clenches his fists at his sides and nods to Kyle, before sending a glare to his best friend. The conversations in the room pick up again; allowing Craig to talk without being heard by the others. “I’m gonna do something about it tonight, okay. Shut the fuck up.”

_ “I’m gonna do something about it?”  _ Clyde mocks, “dude, you make it sound like you’re gonna dispose of him.”

Craig rolls his eyes, “you know what I mean.”

“What are you gonna say?” Clyde asks. 

“None of your business.”

“I bet you’re just saying that ‘cause you have nothing planned.”

He inhales through his nose, his shoulders rising in tension. Clyde is right. He does  _ not  _ have anything planned. He  _ thinks  _ he is decent at flirting, but admitting he has feelings is an entirely different thing.

“Ha! I knew it,” Clyde snickers; elbowing him again. “You can practice on me later if you want.”

“Not happening,” Craig shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Whatever, man, your loss. I think I could do a really good job at it though.”

Craig sighs. He  _ will _ figure this out, and he does  _ not  _ need Clyde’s help in doing so.

-

The ceremony takes place outside the barn, and Craig is impressed by the transformation of the property. The entryway of the barn has been enhanced with drapery; the barn doors left open. String fairy lights hang overheard; illuminating the space with a romantic glow. A rustic floral arch resides at the end of the aisle, decorated with an assortment of red and white roses, and ivy. 

He walks down the aisle with Wendyl, and takes his place beside Clyde when they arrive at the floral arch. As he stands beside Clyde, the brunette raises his eyebrows with a grin, and tugs on his own lapels. Craig offers a small smile back; amused by his overall giddiness towards the situation.

He turns his head to the aisle as Ike and Butters walk toward them, but his attention is driven instead to where Kyle and Cartman stand behind them. He doesn’t realize he has spent the whole time staring in their direction until he and Cartman are moving.

He watches as they walk down the aisle, or more so, watches Kyle. He just looks so handsome in his tux; along with the stupidly cute, perfect smile he displays. His heart quite literally skips a beat when Kyle looks over to him, and he is forced to look away.

He feels a nudge to his side and he glances over at Clyde. His friend raises eyebrows at him, a somewhat smirk over his lips. “You got that look again, dude.”

Instead of engaging, he just picks his head up to look straight ahead. The pianist changes her tune as Kenny and Karen walk down the aisle way. Kenny beams; looking cleaner and well groomed than Craig’s ever seen him.

When they arrive at the floral arch, Karen releases her hold on him and gives him a hug. Stan reaches out for his hand, and the two stand together beneath the floral arch, beaming. They whisper among themselves and then Kenny dabs his eyes with a tissue.

When Craig hears a sniffle from beside him, he looks over to find Clyde dabbing his eyes as well. He rolls his eyes at this.

The ceremony is short and sweet; uncharistic to a couple Catholic weddings he was forced to attend to as a wedding photographer. Luckily, Stan nor Kenny kept to their Catholic roots.

-

After photos, speeches and dinner, Craig is free to move around where he pleases. He spends some time on the dance floor with Bebe, but then takes notice of Kyle next to the bar and descends over to him. He places a drink first and then eyes him.

“You’re very lame.”

Kyle picks his head up and lifts an eyebrow. “How do  _ you _ have the right to call anyone lame? You spend most of your weekends at home, watching space videos,”

“Sounds pretty cool to me,” Craig says. “At least I dance.”

“I danced last night,” Kyle retorts. “Or were you too drunk to recall?”

Craig snorts. He was sort of drunk last night, but he did not nearly drink enough to  _ black out. _ “I remember that you were  _ dragged  _ out there.”

“I was trying to make Kenny and Stan happy,”

“Maybe you should make them happy now,”

“I think they are happy enough,”

Craig snorts and picks his drink up from the bartender. He takes a sip, eyeing the man beside him. “Didn’t you say you wished them all the happiness in your speech? Seems kind of contradicting now,”

Kyle sighs and turns to face him with a tired expression, however a lazy smile rests on his lips. “Don’t use my own words against me.”

“At least you know that I was paying attention,” Craig cocks his head. 

“I’m flattered. It almost makes up for you falling asleep during my valedictorian speech,” Kyle offers a smile, cocking his head as well.

“How do you even remember that? It was like  _ ten  _ years ago,”

“You were  _ snoring _ ,” Kyle narrows his eyes on him.

“I would like to think I’ve changed since then,”

Kyle snorts, taking a sip of his drink. He smirks at the other male, scrunching up his nose, “nah, you still snore.”

“Well, at least I’m not snoring during any of your speeches anymore,” Craig elbows him, glancing down at the smile that Kyle bites down. 

“Once again — flattered.”

“Excuse me,” an older woman calls for their attention beside them, “You two remind me of me and my wife at your age. Even when we were young, we would bicker like an old married couple,” she chuckles. Immediate panic kicks in as the words settle upon them. Craig furrows his eyebrows and is about to correct her, when she continues: “oh, I’m so sorry for intruding. It is just so sweet to see — she got hit by a drunk driver several years back,” the older woman frowns, pushing silver hair out of her tear filled eyes. “I miss her everyday, but I swear, I see reminders of her everywhere.”

Kyle and Craig exchange a glance. Craig swallows his previous words, and Kyle addresses her. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am, I cannot even imagine.”

The corner of the woman’s mouth perks into a smile as she nods. “It was difficult — the worst pain I ever went through — even after years,” she looks away, blinking away her tears, “I still think of her.”

Craig frowns. He has no idea what to say. “Sorry if we brought on any … bad memories.”

“Oh, honey,” the woman chuckles, placing a hand on his shoulder. She smiles, “not at all… all the memories of her are fond ones. I’m sorry to have eavesdropped; it’s just so nice to see reminders of her,” she squeezes Craig’s shoulder before dismissing herself. 

Craig ducks his head down, doing his best to keep Kyle from seeing the probable blush that’s taken over his cheeks. 

“Uh, I think that was Stan’s great aunt Sheila…,” he runs a hand through the back of his hair. “I’ve met her a couple times… Stan must have mentioned I was bi once, and she must have assumed —,”

Craig shrugs, “whatever; if it brings her solace, then let her have it,” he takes a drink. “No point in depressing her anymore by saying we aren’t a couple.”

Kyle chuckles nervously, swirling his drink in his hand as he glances down at it. “Yeah, no point there,” he breathes out. He swallows, flicking his eyes up to Craig. “Kind of funny that she thought we were a couple though, right?”

He could say it right now, but instead, he just pokes around the edge again. He shrugs, “not that funny.” 

Kyle looks over to him with interest, raising his eyebrows. 

Panic quickly sets in and he follows it with, “you did say you know I snore.”

“Hm,” Kyle smiles at him, “yeah, I guess.”

-

It only takes a couple hours for word to get around. They learn from Mrs. Marsh that Aunt Sheila has been telling  _ everyone  _ that Craig and Kyle remind her of her own relationship. Craig is sure that the rumor has reached their friends by now — at least Stan and Kenny. Either Stan and Kenny are too busy with their wedding day to reach them yet, or they just feel too touched by the story they’ve been associated with. Craig just  _ dearly  _ wishes that the word won’t get out to Cartman.

Despite the staring, it honestly is not that bad. He and Kyle have just been laughing it off; finding the humor in the situation. Things are going well between them until Clyde — of course,  _ Clyde  _ — ruins it.

He and Kyle are sitting at one of the tables when Clyde drops down into one of the seats next to them with bright eyes and a wide grin. Craig does not like the look on his face. “Craig, I can’t believe you finally told Kyle how you feel! Congratulations!” He grins widely, shifting bright eyes between the two.

Craig widens his eyes at him — his heart drowning in the pits of his stomach. He clenches his jaw, inhaling a sharp breath through his nose. Before he can launch across the table and rip his friend’s throat out, he hears Kyle ask, “how you  _ feel _ ?”

He watches as Clyde’s face contours from excitement to realization; his eyes becoming painicked and wide. He bobs his mouth up and down, frantically shifting between Kyle and Craig. “I — I’m — you know,” Clyde licks his lips, and swallows. “I didn’t mean — not like,”

Craig stands up, ready to shut down whatever bull shit continues to spur out of his lips. Clyde eyes follow him as he rises from his own seat; cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Craig, I’m —,”

Clyde sucks in a deep breath, before releasing a nervous laugh. Then, with another step forward from Craig, Clyde takes a step back, turns around, and begins to run. Craig runs after him; intent on punching him in the dick, but at the very least, getting him away from Kyle.

-

After kicking Clyde in the balls, Craig slinks off to the edge of property — string lights and wedding reception behind him. He stares at the twinkling stars above him, making out the Big Dipper and Polaris. 

He tries to separate himself from this situation; prove to himself that it is not as mortifying as it feels, although the anxiety he feels in his chest; stomach; legs, speaks otherwise.

Clyde is such an idiot. He cannot fathom how he can be such an idiot. He does not care how much he has had to drink. It does not make him any less of any idiot. Craig is an idiot for telling Clyde about his crush on Kyle. How could he ever expect that idiot to keep his mouth shut?

He huffs out a breath as he fishes for the lighter he borrowed from Stan’s dad and the cigarette he snagged from Kenny. Once found, he puts the stick between his lips and lights the end. 

Clyde made it sound like he’s in love with Kyle or something.  _ How he feels.  _ He  _ feels  _ like he is never going to share a secret with Clyde again. Now, what is he supposed to say to Kyle? He  _ feels  _ like just asking him out will not suffice; then again, he already felt like that was not enough. They’ve been in the same friend group for most of his lives, and there is unfortunately no manual on how to navigate the evolution of friendship to romance.

There is also a chance that Kyle doesn’t see anything in him at all; that he will simply tell him to fuck off. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling aggravated and violated. He was really going to make a move tonight, but then Clyde just had to go and ruin it.

He is startled from his train of thought when he hears  _ his  _ voice. “Oh, here you are.”

He shuts his eyes together, scrunching up his face and proceeding to let out a deep breath. “I thought you quit smoking,” Kyle steps up beside him.

He looks over to him, “figured it’s Kenny’s wedding and all, and since he has the worst lungs of any one I know, I figured why not smoke one in his honor?”

“Noble of you,”

Craig flicks his eyes away —his stomach tying in knots. He knows they have to address it. He knows Kyle  _ will,  _ he just — hates this.

“Look, what Clyde said… He’s an idiot,”

“So, you don’t have anything to tell me then?”

Craig’s stomach lurches again. He takes a drag of the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and kicking it into the dirt. He decides he is not going to let Clyde totally ruin this situation for him. He is going to take control. He angles himself towards Kyle and meets him in his amber eyes. “So… I know we’re  _ friends…  _ and always have been  _ just _ friends, but,” he inhales deeply; using how Kyle seems to be hanging onto his every word as support. “But I, uh, I want more than that. I think we would be good, you know, as a couple, or whatever,” he swallows, and looks away.

_Shit, shit, shit — good as a couple._ They haven’t even gone on a single date yet, and he is talking about being a couple. In attempt to recover, he adds, “I just, you know, Stan’s aunt, she seems to think we would be good… so that has to count for something, right?” he looks back to Kyle, who is now grinning. He feels a grin stretch out on his own face as he registers what that must mean. “So… what do you think?”

“I think we’d make a good couple, too,” Kyle admits, voice softer than he thinks he’s ever heard from him. Craig let’s put a sigh of relief; a grin breaking out across his face to match Kyle’s, “I’ve thought so for a while… I just — you can be pretty hard to read.”

“Sorry,”

“No, it’s fine,” Kyle reassures with a cute, toothless smile. Kyle steps forward, grabbing a hold of his lapel and running his thumb alongside it. His heart speeds at the new proximity between them. “It’s just how you are, and I  _ like  _ how you are,”

Craig takes in a deep breath; his cheeks swelling from how hard he grins. “So… uh what now?” He asks.

“I guess we go on a first date,”

“I feel like some of the things we have done could count as first dates already,”

“Yeah, but they don’t because we were just doing those as friends,”

Craig rolls his eyes and places his hands on the others hips, “so if I kissed you right now… would that be inappropriate, considering we haven’t even been on a technical first date yet,”

Kyle rolls his eyes back, sliding his palm among his lapel, “don’t say  _ technical.  _ We haven’t been on a first date yet, point blank… but on  _ that _ note, I’m not opposed to skipping a few steps,”

Craig smiles as Kyle surges forward and presses their lips together; their noses brushing together and Kyle’s other hand cradling his flushed cheek. He becomes completely lost in it — in Kyle. His pounding heart drowns out the sound of the reception and live band; the distance between themselves and the rest of the world becoming infinite as they kiss under the stars.

When Kyle pulls back, he involuntarily chases his lips and brings them together again. He’s only had a taste, but he’s already addicted to the feeling of the other man’s lips and tongue brushing over his own and making him dizzy. 

He could and would stay here all night but Kyle insists they return to the reception after a while of kissing. With mild complaints, Craig abides and they walk back hand-in-hand.

When asked later on when their first date was, they agree it was Stan and Kenny’s wedding — and Craig denies any credits Clyde claims on the start of their relationship.


End file.
